Demons, Brutes and the Other Inhabitants of my Home
by youfillmylungswithsweetness
Summary: Cole MacGrath arrives in from Empire City, the Beast blazing down the coast after him, leaving destruction in its wake. When he decides to take on the local militia, he'll realise he isn't the only Conduit raising hell in New Marais, fighting for the city that seems to be a never ending attraction for mayhem and monsters. (OC story)


I shifted the earth again, feeling the ground above me part and the dirt below my feet push upwards. I crouched, tensing my muscles as the pressure pushed against me and I shot upwards, out of the ground. I flew for a moment, the momentum from the push leaving me in the air, before I tumbled to the ground, rolling. My shoulder smacked onto the concrete and I sucked in a painful breath as my ribs quickly followed. I continued rolling, but I softened the ground underneath me.

"God DAMMIT!" I yelled, as I finally came to a stop. I lay on my back, my chest hitching. I banged my fist the ground in anger, leaving a small crater. I released my breath, my nostrils flaring and my mouth pulled into a frown. I lay there for a moment as I caught my breath. I pulled myself together and sat up, feeling the stabbing pain in my shoulder as I did. I groaned as the earth lifted me to my feet, pushing my back up for me. It was easier to use my powers than to move at the moment.

I bent my elbow at a 90-degree angle, holding it against my stomach. With my right arm, I grabbed my left shoulder and began to pull it towards my chest. I bit down onto my lip as I eased my shoulder back into place. There was a pop and relief flooded back into the joint as it relocated. I had dislocated it so many times now that my shoulder was loose enough to be done without much effort. The first time it happened I had almost passed out from the pain as I tried over and over again to pop it back into place.

I cradled my arm to my chest, allowing myself to give up for the day. I made my way out of the abandoned freight yard, on the lookout for military attire with orange-stripped pants. Sure enough, there was a small group of militia huddled by a fire. As I sneaked around an empty carriage, I heard them speak.

"-They's call him the Demon of Empire City. News reckons he's the one tearin' up the East coast, like some kinda mega terrorist," I heard one of the men say as he lit a cigarette in the fire. "Fuckin' bullshit, he's no more powerful than those ice freaks."

"I dunno. I reckon somethin' big is coming down, like a super freak," another added. "Probably gonna leave the Demon splattered on the side walk and then Bertrand'll hit him with all we've got. Pretty sure I heard somethin' 'bout a nuke. Gonna hit it when it's near floodtown, ain't nothin' worth savin' there." He finished with a chuckle.

The Demon of Empire City, Cole MacGrath, who was later recognised as a hero. Who better to teach me to control my powers than him? I had to find him, to convince him to let me join him. I wasn't going to practice in vain in empty train yards anymore. I was going to help.

With new determination, I set my stance. I dragged my bare foot across the ground, feeling the militia's positions. I stomped and the earth reacted to my will. Three pillars burst from the ground, launching the soldiers as I had been launched when I was practicing. One landed on top of a freight container, the other two on the ground. From the crack I heard when one of the men smacked onto the hard earth, I was guessing he wasn't going to get up again.

I rushed forwards, moving at an inhuman speed with the earth pushing my heels. I made a series of sturdy and forceful movements and once again, the earth reacted. The man who had begun to rise was suddenly hit in the face with another pillar, which hit him directly in the jaw. There was a crack as the bone broke and he fell to the ground, moaning in pain. I raised the earth around him, trapping his hands and feet in the ground. It would take a pickaxe to cut through that shackle.

There was a stutter as a barrage of bullets came flying towards me, and I raised a wall. It was thin and weak, but it managed to stop most of the bullets before crumbling. I ducked behind the carriage, rolling on my right shoulder, only just dodging the rest of the clip. I heard muffled curses at the soldier tried to reload and took the time to regain my energy. I put my hands to the ground, feeling the vibrations, the tunnels, everything. It's like I could _see_ it.

I straightened up again, knowing that the soldier had climbed down from the container and was coming to seek me out. I mimicked his movements, moving to the opposite side of the carriage. I thrust my foot forwards and down, then followed with a dynamic push into the side of the carriage. The earth sprung up, lifting the carriage and throwing it at the soldier. I couldn't see or hear the brute, but when the carriage collapsed amongst the containers, I knew he was dead. I did not feel remorse for killing these men; the world was a better place without them. I tried to keep them alive purely because I believed death was an easy option, but life in prison was to pay for ones crimes.

However, I did have respect for the dead, something that they did not. With effort, I lifted back the carriage and kept shifting through until I found the soldier's body. It was disfigured, but luckily he had not been completely crushed. I walked over and closed his eyes.

"Rest in peace," I muttered. I dragged his body away from the wreck, which was quite a feat for a 17-year-old kid when the hefty soldier was covered in body armour. I almost collapsed again from the powers I had used, my knees growing weak. I managed to stumble to the exit of the train yard, knowing that another shift of militia would be on the way.

People stared at me as I walked past, and I guess it was hard not to. I was a lanky kid, around six foot. The muscle that I did have remained hidden under my tattered and dirty clothes; one of the two outfits that I owned. I was barefoot, as usual, and my feet were covered in dried mud, as were the bottom of my faded jeans. Fingerless gloves covered half of my forearms, up to the green sleeves of my shirt, hiding the black patterns underneath. My hair was as deep brown streaked with gold, my skin an olive brown. My eyes were the strangest part of all. Foremost, they were the same brown as my hair, but there were specks of orange, gold, black and light brown that constantly shifted place. I ducked my head down, trying to walk as steadily as I could manage.

After passing a few streets, I turned into an empty alley. There was nothing particular about it to those without powers. It was dark, full of rubbish and absolutely filthy. However, hidden underneath this junkyard was a series of hidden passages that I had spent months crafting. They led all around the city and in the very centre was my home.

I had a collection of old couches, mattresses and pillows for furniture and a chipped coffee table, which I had fixed myself. As for light, I'd collected lanterns and candles enough so that I could see the room, even though it was unnecessary; I could already feel where everything was. However, it made it feel a bit more normal to be able to trust my eyes rather than my feet on occasion, so I kept the candles lit for comfort more than anything. I'd managed to salvage some old posters to at least liven up the place. I'd smoothed down the walls and ceiling, and it was as far down under the city as I could manage to make it.I'd even been able to find a nearby stream that I could redirect so I could bathe. I was living like a king.

I felt safe down deep in the earth, surrounded by something that would react to my whim and would protect me from the monsters above. It was bleak and lonely, yeah, but then again it wasn't that different from the world above at the moment. Maybe when this thing was over, maybe when the militia finally got what was coming to them, I could emerge from my little earthly cocoon. But until then, this was home.

When I finally reached my abode, I collapsed on my makeshift bed, exhausted. I allowed myself 10 minutes rest to regain my strength before going to wash off. I cleaned my face and feet, and washed my clothes. I used the rest of the bar of soap I had on them and then left them to dry on the floor.

I returned to my bed in my alternate outfit and relaxed, feeling the strain finally fall off my shoulders as my muscles untensed. I blew out the candle next to me, sending myself into darkness. It was only seconds later that I drifted into a deep and undisturbed sleep, miles under the chaos that was just about to ensue above my head.


End file.
